


Would it be all that bad?

by catlyson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 14:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catlyson/pseuds/catlyson
Summary: They sit in silence for a moment before Loki sits up.“Would it be all that bad?”Draco tilts his head quizzically.“The whole marriage thing”





	Would it be all that bad?

**Author's Note:**

> For a gift exchange with my friend.

1.

_ They say a bolt of lightning, brilliant to behold struck down upon the grounds of Hogwarts to reveal a boy,  _

 

_ a boy with emerald eyes, night-dark hair and a smile, mischievous to behold.  _

 

The fact that the boy’s pedigree far surpassed his own didn’t bode well. It latched onto his mind, nagging him, tearing at his subconscious. 

 

The fact that the boy could already perform spells without a wand in sight, the fact that Draco himself hadn’t had  the patience the time to practice spells like that Granger girl.

 

He grits his teeth, annoyance bubbling as Pansy once more tried to hold his hand while they awaited McGonagall. 

 

He had already failed to befriend Potter despite his father's urgings. 

 

His mother will smooth the matter over, he is sure, but-

 

if he could befriend _him_ , 

 

now that would be a far more valuable asset to have around.  

 

_ After much deliberation from the sorting hat, Loki is finally sorted into Slytherin. _

 

_ As if reading his mind, the boy turns his head to stare right back at him, eyes piercing his before sitting down at the opposite end of the table. _

 

_ Draco breathes a sigh of relief. _

 

 

2.

 

_ The ease at which Loki befriends people regardless of their standing unnerves him.  _

 

_ Draco supposes he must be excused. _

 

_ Loki is... foreign, perhaps their standards are more muddled.  _

 

He was mistaken. 

 

If the pranks the Weasley twins manage to crank up every week are considered unforgettable, then Loki’s should be considered legendary, the thing of fables, gilded in gold and depicted lovingly on church walls next to those fat, rosy hued babies that are suppose to represent angelic grace.

 

The only difference being Loki doesn’t get caught in the act half as much as they do, but somehow loses twice the amount of house points. 

 

The first few weeks of term had been horrific for everyone as they tried to prank one another, with each trick becoming increasingly elaborate, the casualties students obtaining rising, one particularly nasty potion mishap resulting in Snape sprouting neon pink hair across his entire body- though that's another story for another time.  

 

Traversing the halls by yourself had now become a deathwish for even those bloody brave Gryffindors. 

 

Of course, Dumbledore had the absolutely brilliant idea of reconciling them in his office. Needless to say, Draco wasn’t sure whether that did more good or harm for the three boys had brokered some kind of truce to work together. 

Above all, it seemed that Loki had been able to achieve the impossible; taming Mrs. Norris, the gigantic red-eyed cat that prowled the halls after curfew saying his mother had a few of them lying around in their house.

 

Filch might as well retire before his heart bursts from all the constant stress he’s under. 

 

Draco walks back to the slytherin dorms alone, dinner still chugging along merrily in the great hall. The letter that had arrived from his father had put him off of his meal entirely, despite his mother’s worries of his slight frame. As he is about to step onto stairwell a hand grabs the back of his robes. He yelps, surprised and turns around, hastily scrunching up the letter and shoving it deep into his robe pockets. 

 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you” 

 

Draco tries to ignore his sticky palms and huffs indignantly, 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?”

 

Loki’s wide green eyes made Draco feel dizzy as the boy’s grin widened. 

 

“I was hoping you’d ask that”  

 

Loki threw the book he was holding to the staircase. Draco watched as the book slowly started sinking into the stone steps. He sucked in a breath. 

 

“Don’t worry, we made sure that you’ll only sink in waist deep”

 

“How did you do that!” He looked back towards Loki, eyes now equally wide. 

 

“Fred and George are more clever than people give them credit for.” 

 

He meets Draco’s eyes with his own and adds rather shyly, “I did help a little bit”. 

 

Green smoke swirled around Loki’s hands slowly, once, twice, before bursting into sparks. Draco opens his mouth to express his utter amazement when laughter rings out from behind the corner.  

 

Loki abruptly grabs Draco’s hand, whispering “I know a better way into the dorms” before dragging him away at breakneck speed. 

 

_ Draco later passes of his flushed face from the sudden exercise rather than Loki himself. _

 

 

3.

 

Apparently being sorted into Slytherin meant nothing to the scandinavian whelp, or so Marcus Flint spats out along with flecks of blood on the plush carpeted floors of the common room. Draco grimaces as he, Blaise and Theo exchange whispers with the other first years- 

 

_ Marcus tried to teach a lesson and ended up bleeding on the cold stone steps- _

__

_                                                                    Would’ve cracked his skull on the ceiling if he went up any higher _

 

- _ didn’t even touch him, just a look and he went sprawling _

 

_ You wouldn’t believe if you weren’t there, it was like something out of a old myth- _

 

“A bloody grimm fairytale if you ask me” Theo snorts as he scrawls messily through his potions work. He glances up when Draco doesn’t respond and kicks him in the shin. 

 

“What’s got your feathers all ruffled?” 

 

Pansy flounces over and wedges herself on the couch next to Blaise. 

 

“I bet 10 galleons it’s because green suits Loki so much better than it does him”.  Draco rolls his eyes and shoves Blaise into her, making her fall onto the floor. 

 

She keeps cackling anyway, her immaculate bob swinging in rhythm to her dainty shoulders. 

 

_ Because it’s true.  _

 

 

 

4.

 

The Yule Ball has set the entire school abuzz, with students trading everything from accessories and clothing to potential dates and rumors, both silly and frank. 

 

_ Rumors, whether dagger sharp or bland and dull, always aim true.  _

 

Speaking of such rumors, Blaise had finally grew a pair and asked Pansy to the dance. 

 

She accepted of course, although Draco and Theo were threatened at wand point to not tell him that she was the one to start the rumor in the first place, or about the list of potential dates she had lined up in case Blaise didn’t deliver. 

 

Merlin forbid that Pansy shall go to a ball unaccompanied. 

 

Of course, that now left Draco dateless, although he supposed he could ask- 

 

he swallowed back bile,  _ Daphne Greengrass _ …

 

Draco could not for the life of him think of anyone more unpleasant to spend time with, although she would definitely accept in a heartbeat despite it already being the day of the ball, and having a date. 

 

The Greengrass girls were out for Malfoy blood, it seemed. 

 

Draco cringed when the candles in the dorm bathroom flickered, only relaxing when a familiar silhouette steps through the door. 

 

Loki pauses at the entrance briefly before stating “Your tie is crooked” in a blunt, matter-of-fact way as he reaches forward to fix it. 

 

It’s a poor excuse, they both know. Draco could tie a tie immaculately, both with and without the aid of magic.

 

He says nothing.  

 

Their reflection in the mirror depicts a familiar scene as Loki 'fixes his tie', determination displayed clearly on his face. 

 

Stolen snippets of affection between his parents he had stored deep inside his memory on the rare occasions they were alone in the house and not hosting some extravagant party or elaborate dinner.

 

His mother and father, always so statuesque in the presence of others. 

 

_ Draco. Remember, nothing shows weakness more than affection for others. There are always ones who wish us harm. Stay safe, my love, my star.  _

 

As if sensing his stiffness, Loki’s usually nimble fingers fumble with the strip of cloth as if suddenly unsure of his actions. 

 

He finishes the knot, hands lingering for a beat. 

Two beats. 

 

Three...

 

A strand of hair falls over Loki’s face.

 

He looks up, green eyes cat-like in the dimming light.

 

“Are you alright?” 

 

 

5.

 

It is because of Loki that he was friends with Potter and his little golden trio. 

 

Hermione, surprisingly, after being thoroughly charmed by Loki had ‘the sense to judge individuals by mind and character rather than past actions’ her words, not his. 

 

-as well as a fair bit of apologizing on his part 

 

He is still second smartest in all of his classes, stuck snugly between her bushy head and some smug, freckle covered face wearing a ridiculous set of bracelets that jangled with every small movement made, which, Hermione teases him about constantly during their joined study sessions, although never unkindly. 

 

_ She knows how being made fun of feels like, after all _

 

Ron, well, is Ron and  they were amiable, to put things kindly  he is infuriating and Draco can’t believe Ron is related to either of the twins or weaslette. 

 

Then he thinks back to his mother and his aunts. 

 

The three sisters of House Black. 

 

What they each sacrificed for their own belief of love and happiness.

 

Watching the Gryffindor table during dinner, the affection and love pouring out from everyone surrounding him, Draco wonders what Ron believes he is lacking in life.

 

\-----------------------

 

He arrived at the common room sweaty, blood still pumping through his veins a mile a minute, breathless from spending the entire afternoon on the pitch training… and laughing along with Potter. 

 

He supposed it was rather nice to practice with someone who was as equally passionate about Quidditch as he was. 

 

Besides, practices were more… practice when playing against another team. 

 

The team seemed to appreciate the friendly competition, although an old grudge or two had ended with a stray quaffle and a visit to Madame Pomfrey. 

__

“I told you it was a good idea” a voice drawled from the couch.  Draco tried to hide a grin. 

 

“You’re dragging the vowels too much. You sound more drunk than pretentious” 

 

Draping himself dramatically across the couch Loki sighs, “Ah yes, I shall write a letter to the master of pretentiousness to learn the sacred artform after I pass the muggle studies exam” 

 

Draco half-heartedly throws his sweaty gear towards the couch, snorting when Loki flings it away before it can touch his robes. 

 

“I don’t understand why you waste your time with that nonsense” Loki settles his head on his lap, qualms about sweaty uniforms forgotten. 

 

“I find their culture rather interesting, it’s a wonder how they’ve survived without magic for so long”

 

They finally settle down,  the crackling of the fire loud in the absence of the other students. 

 

Draco absentmindedly ran his fingers through Loki’s hair- his eyes slitting as he sank into the couch further. 

 

“Has anyone told you how married you are?” 

 

Draco jumps as Pansy slinks out from the shadows with a bedraggled Blaise in tow. 

 

“Honestly, I thought you would be a little more _ risque”  _ She winks at Loki. 

 

She straightens her uniform before fixing her hair and smudged makeup with a subtle flick of her wand.

 

“Oh, well, I’ll see you two at dinner...”

 

Blaise waves at them awkwardly, lipstick smudged face flushed equally red, equal parts embarrassed for himself and for them before rushing out. 

 

They sit in silence for a moment before Loki sits up. 

 

“Would it be all that bad?” 

 

Draco tilts his head quizzically. 

 

“The whole marriage thing”  

__

_ 6. _

 

_ He knows there’s something not quite human about Loki.  _

 

_ That fact had been made crystal, from the very moment he had arrived at Hogwarts. _

 

Draco carefully watches the maniacal glint in his aunts eyes, to the lines of sorrow that had unknowingly crept onto his mother's face. At the way his father secretly gripped her hand under the table, whether reassuring her with his love or simply from the terror of losing her he did not know. 

 

He secretly hoped it was both. 

 

His breath catches when he steals a glance at his own reflection. 

 

Ghost pale against the rich mahogany of polished wood. 

 

A gaunt, hollow face with haunted eyes and blue lips.

 

He doesn't recognize his reflection. 

 

_ He's scared that Loki won't recognize him.  _

 

Draco tries to compose himself before Voldemort notices that he’s- he’s fucking terrified about the future-

 

_ he can’t, he just can’t- _

 

_ He has to. _

 

Draco listens to the next assignment, face resembling the death mask they are to don, and his heart feels as though it dropped down through the earth to the other side of this godforsaken world. 

 

They are to raid Potter’s hideout. 

That sniveling prick from Ravenclaw must have ratted them out during his interrogation. 

 

_ Don’t reveal, don’t react, don’t feel, don’t- _

 

_ He realizes that there’s something not quite human about himself either.  _

 

7.

 

_ ‘We’re waiting for you’ _

 

“C’mon mate, what’s there to lose? We can leave before this shit show gets out of hand and we get thrown into Azkaban!” Theo paces around Draco’s bedroom impatient. 

 

The waiting makes him feel trapped, weak. They’ve been too paranoid to talk about their friends anywhere but here, underneath countless muffliato charms and locked doors. 

 

“You go then” Draco’s voice comes out muffled, his head held in his arms. 

 

The pacing stops in front of him. A hand yanks him up by the arm, forcing him to stand up. 

 

“I can’t leave. It’ll kill my mother. He’ll understand.” 

 

Theo opens his mouth as if to object. 

 

“You might not care about your father but I care about mine”

 

Theo slumps onto his bed at that, fiddling with his wand. 

 

“I can’t wait, Draco” His voice is soft, as close to pleading as he’ll ever get. 

 

Draco stares at the pale band of skin marking Theo’s finger. 

 

At the handmade cord resting on his jutting collar bones that he knew lead to the small lump inside his shirt he'd been wearing, all while grumbling about corks and nifflers. 

 

It had made her smile at him. 

 

It had made her laugh. 

 

He made  _her_  happy.

 

“She said yes?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Lovegood, she said yes?” 

 

“Yeah, yeah she said bloody yes” 

 

“You know what your father will do if-”

 

“He finds out, yea, I know.” Theo’s voice cracks at the end, the way it always does when he’s trying to act neutral. But he is not a emotionless statue like his father and he is hated for that. Too soft, and Luna would only prove that further. 

 

It’s a beginning and an end. 

 

Draco drags his hand through his hair and signs. Loki’s going to bring him back from the grave just to kill him again for doing this. 

 

He’s certainly capable enough. 

 

“Cheers mate.”

 

He throws his family ring at Theo, making him catch it out of instinct - years of catching half-empty bags of sweets and haphazardly thrown fragile ink bottles had finally paid off. 

 

His mouth shapes into a ‘o’, surprise painting his face as the air around them begins to swirl uncontrollably. 

 

Theo’s expression is almost comical, but Draco is stoic as his lifelong friend is whisked away by sheer force,  sending everything other than the heavy furniture whirling room before falling unceremoniously on the ground. 

 

The sound of the portkey is sure to attract his parents who are thankfully the only ones left behind from the mission. 

 

He sits down rigidly, back straight and arms resting on the cream coverlet of his bed. 

 

_ It was enough.  _

 

_ It is enough.  _

 

_ It has to be enough.  _

  
8.

Loki’s furious, shouting nonstop for the better part of the hour, but they are alive. Bloodied, battered in both mind and spirit but alive. It seemed that months of pent up rage had finally worked itself free. 

 

After all, gods were not meant to be controlled by mere mortals. 

 

_ The magic rolling off of him in undeniable, making the hairs stand up on your arms and the back of your neck, stinging your lungs when you breath in, palpable to taste, metallic like blood but a thousand times headier. The true extent of his power seeping out of the cracks and fissures that you had made in his armour.  _

 

And yet all Draco could stare at was the ring adorning Loki’s left hand as it had been there forever, could be there forever, belonged there, forever unchanging, unmoving.

 

\--------------------------

 

Loki refuses to talk to him for a better part of the months leading up to his trial, although he testifies for his freedom along with the majority of Dumbledore’s army. 

 

Those who had seen Draco at the battle deceiving Voldemort’s direct orders, found Theo flailing outside of their hideout shouting about an imminent attack as Luna and Neville tried to free him from a particularly vicious species of vines, or even those who had seen the charges to his character in Hogwarts.

 

The shift was little by little of course, but it was deemed enough in their eyes to hold him close to a hero’s regard in the end. 

 

_ -a sentencing of one year without magic under house arrest has been deemed an appropriate payment for his crimes of true intent in aiding the side of good, on this day- _

 

“Guess you’ll be stuck with me” Draco joked weakly, as his wrists were finally unchained. 

 

Loki just gripped his hand tighter. Still mad it seemed. 

 

The silver band, warmed by Loki’s skin dug into his hand. 

 

_ It made his blood sing.  _

  
x.

They are out for coffee on a rainy tuesday afternoon. 

 

It’s almost revolting how mundane it is, especially during the year-end rush. 

 

_ Almost _ because  _ he  _ seems so utterly  _ charmed _ by all of the muggle trinkets and books lying around the shop. 

 

He wistfully thinks back to the department and wanders how Hermione is faring as the temporary lone chief of their huge department. 

 

Then he remembers that  _ she _ is the one who coorced Loki into taking him here in the first place. 

 

He hopes one of the interns accidentally lights fire to one of her precious filing cabinets. 

 

He hopes the fire spreads to all of them. 

 

Satisfied, Draco tries a sip of coffee and winces. 

 

He couldn’t believe how muggles drank this so, leisurely. 

 

“My mother wants us to visit again next week”, Loki says, his tone amused as he fiddles with rather ornate ‘pencil sharpener’.

 

“With Scorpius?”

 

“With Scorpius.”. 

 

“I still haven’t figured out a way to explain to my parents” 

 

“I think the appearance of our white haired-green eyed child explains itself perfectly well” 

Draco peered over the rim of his cup to the playpen where Scorpius was happily stacking wooden blocks, one on top of the other with muggle children. 

 

“Bloody hell, how are we going to explain it to him when he’s older?” 

 

Loki reached over to hold his hand. 

 

“Well, we’ve survived this far.”. 

 

Loki rubbed Draco’s hand comfortingly, thumb brushing his wedding band. 

 

They smiled. 

 

_ “Papa, Daddy, come look what I made!” _


End file.
